She looked up, sharply, as it struck her. “I collapsed in front of everyone, didn’t I?”
“Yes.” Sergeant Miles shrugged. “The general opinion around camp is that the necromancers tried to curse you, but you fought them off. A few high-level command conferences might have been overheard by the lads, that sort of thing. Everyone agrees you did well... well, everyone who matters anyway. The handful of dissidents were thumped into silence by their fellows.”
Emily frowned. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.” Sergeant Miles sat beside her. “How much can you tell me?”
Emily leaned back, resting her head against the makeshift pillow as she tried to organize her thoughts. Again. It wasn’t easy separating the memories... they were becoming part of her, as if they’d never been anything else. In a sense, they really hadn’t been anything else. She did her best to follow the thread, outlining everything that had happened since she’d walked into the Blighted Lands. Sergeant Miles listened quietly, asking a handful of questions when she glossed over a couple of details. She didn’t want to think about the collaborators, or the slaves, or the strange creatures they’d seen. She still had no idea what they were - or what they’d been, before the necromancers had enslaved them.
“We need a new plan,” she said, grimly. “That necromancer is good.”
“Too good,” Sergeant Miles agreed. “Why did he ever embrace necromancy in the first place?”
Emily shrugged. Void had pointed out that sorcerers, particularly the ones who’d yet to reach their peak, had both a lust for power and a calm certainty they could handle anything. And they were inevitably wrong. A sorcerer might tell himself that his spellwork could handle necromancy, that he could channel the power without getting burnt, only to discover - too late - that he was mistaken. She thought it was crazy, but she had to admit she’d pushed the limits herself a few times. Simply walking into a necromancer’s lair was... she shook her head. The vast majority of people would insist she was crazy for even considering it.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said. If she went into the castle again, the oath wouldn’t let her leave until she reignited the nexus point. She could try to sneak into the castle, now she had the measure of her opponent... she shuddered, helplessly. The necromancer had killed her. Killed her other self. She felt as if something had cracked with her death, as if... she shook her head. There was no point in dwelling on her own death. She had to put it behind her and... think of something else. “I...”
“Rest,” Sergeant Miles advised. “Right now, we’re in no danger.”
Emily knew that wasn’t true. The necromancers - the two remaining necromancers - probably knew their ally was dead. They also knew the Allied Lands had attacked the castle, even if they didn’t know why. They had no prisoners. They had no one to interrogate. And that meant... she looked at the stone walls, knowing how easily they’d crack when the necromancers brought their full power to bear against them. Rangka probably knew he’d never have a better chance to wipe the invading army out, perhaps even capture the portal and bypass the mountains completely. General Pollack had planned to close the portal if the fortress was on the verge of falling, but it wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. If the necromancers got through, it might be the beginning of the end.
They can take the lattice out from a distance, if there’s no other choice, Emily told herself, firmly. The officers had worked out a whole series of contingency plans. And that will close the portal for good.
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “But it’s only a matter of time until that changes.”
“I know,” Sergeant Miles said. “Still... we did take out one necromancer. We can take out others.”
He smiled. “They’re coming up with all sorts of ideas for using batteries...”
Emily felt cold. She’d known it was only a matter of time, but still... she kicked herself mentally. Sorcerers had spent years considering grossly impractical spells, spells that were impossible because they needed too much power. Now they had a way to stockpile enough power without watching helplessly as it leaked back into the ether. It wouldn’t take them long to find a way to simplify the spellwork, charm the valves and cast the spells. And then the world would change. Again.
The door opened. Lady Barb stepped into the room, carrying a tray. “I have nine potions for you and a lot of well-wishes,” she said, tartly. “You can listen to the wishes while you drink the potions.”
“Oh.” Emily grimaced. “Do I have to...?”
“Glad to know you’re feeling better,” Lady Barb said. She placed the tray on the floor and knelt beside the blanket. “Yes. You do. You can drink them willingly, or we’ll force you to drink them.”
Emily looked at the older woman’s resolute face, then nodded. Lady Barb had taught basic healing, back at school; she’d made it clear that - sometimes - the patient needed to be forced to drink their potions. Emily had never actually done it, but... she sighed as she reached for the first bottle and removed the lid. It was a law - she’d been told - that potions had to taste utterly foul. It wouldn’t do to encourage people to drink potions when they didn’t actually need them.
She grimaced at the scent, then put the bottle to her lips and drank. It tasted as if something had crawled into her mouth to die. She tried not to think about the potions she’d made, many of which had included truly disgusting ingredients, as she swallowed the liquid. Her stomach churned, unpleasantly. The potion was supposed to be impossible to throw up, but she didn’t want to test it. She took the second bottle and drank it too, then the third. The fourth...
“Keep drinking,” Lady Barb said. “You can have another glass of water when you’re done.”
Emily forced herself to keep going. “Why is it that they keep tasting worse and worse?”
“Because not all of the ingredients go together,” Lady Barb said. “And you are to stay in this room until they’ve worked their way through your system. Do not go outside.”
“I got it the first time,” Emily said. She felt... restless, as if she were on the verge of jumping out of her skin. She wanted to climb to her feet and run a mile or... surges of emotion ran through her, each one stronger than the last. She wanted to run, she wanted to fight, she wanted to... she told herself, firmly, that she’d disgrace herself if she gave vent to that emotion. “I won’t let you down.”
“You might as well be drunk,” Lady Barb said. “You’re not quite in your right mind.”
She glanced back, an instant before someone knocked on the door. “What?”
The door opened. Cat stepped into the room. “Emily?”
Emily felt a surge of... of something complicated and yet very primal. She pushed it aside with an effort. “You got back!”
“What happened?” Cat met her eyes. “Emily, you... you didn’t come with me.”
“Long story,” Emily said. She found herself grinning, despite everything. “I... I died and I lived and I died and I...”
She giggled. Cat looked disturbed.
“She’s drunk a number of potions,” Lady Barb informed him. “You may talk to her, if you like, but anything more than talking will end badly.”
“What she means,” Sergeant Miles added sweetly, “is that if you take advantage of her, we’ll kill you.”
Cat turned an interesting color. “I wouldn’t!”
“My, you have changed,” Sergeant Miles said. His voice hardened. “She’s been through too much today. Be careful.”
Emily felt as if she were on a roller coaster. “I won’t be alone,” she said, as she felt a surge of anger at their presumption. Her fingers touched her wrist. “I have...”
Her thoughts seemed to jar to a halt. “Aurelius! Where’s Aurelius?”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
EMILY SAT IN FRONT OF THE fire, trying to gather her thoughts.
It hadn’t been a pleasant few hours as the potions worked their way through - and out - of her body. Lady Barb, Sergeant
Miles and Cat had been understanding, but she still felt ashamed of herself. She’d been on an emotional roller coaster, veering madly between bawling like a little kid, screaming in rage and feeling... feeling uncontrollable emotions that she was ashamed to even think about, after the potions had worn off. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that she hadn’t been alone. It might have ended very badly.
She stared into the flickering flames, concentrating on her link to her familiar. Aurelius couldn’t be dead. She’d know - she thought - if the snake was dead. And yet... she closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind. They were quite some distance from each other, but it shouldn’t matter. She’d heard stories of magicians maintaining mental contact with their animal companions over hundreds or thousands of miles. She’d heard... she swallowed hard, wishing she’d taken the time to build up a proper mental link. She had always told herself it was too dangerous, that she was the only one immune to the snake’s venom... in hindsight, that might have been a mistake. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t have sought privacy for a few hours of mental bonding.
Her mind twitched uncontrollably as she reached along the link. Aurelius should have reverted to his natural form within minutes of her death - of her other self’s death - but would he? She’d always been paranoid about Silent or one of the other maids picking up the bracelet and discovering, too late, that they were holding a poisonous snake. Merely touching the viper’s skin would cost them a hand, if not an entire arm. Nanette would have died if Emily hadn’t removed her hand. It had been the only way to save her life.
A handful of strange impressions echoed back down the link. Aurelius was alive! Aurelius was alive and... in a strange environment. Emily peered through the snake’s eyes, feeling a flicker of confusion as she tried to understand what she was seeing. Aurelius was - in her completely unbiased opinion - very smart for a snake, but he was still a snake. His view of the world was very different from hers, his ability to explain himself to her very limited. He simply wasn’t that intelligent, not really. The idea of him talking like a human being... she shook her head. She could pick up impressions from him - and look through his eyes - but it wasn’t easy to understand. She supposed she should be grateful he was so different from her. She’d read horror stories about magicians who allowed themselves to be influenced by their familiars.
She kept her eyes closed, studying the images as Aurelius peered around the chamber. The castle looked devastated, as if a bomb had gone off. She directed the snake to look for her body - for her other self’s body - and found nothing beyond an abandoned knapsack. It didn’t look as though the necromancer had bothered to search the knapsack, although the charms she’d woven into the material should have concealed it from his gaze. She hadn’t really expected them to work, not on a necromancer. They tended to be too single-minded to be misled by subtle spells. And yet...
The batteries are in the castle, she thought. Now what?
Her mind raced. She could teleport into the castle, then... then what? Would she have time to reignite the nexus point before the necromancer killed her? Again? Or... she considered ordering Aurelius to take the batteries to the nexus point, but it probably wouldn’t work. Even if the snake could get the knapsack to the nexus point, he couldn’t do anything to trigger the magic. And even if he did, it would be worse than useless. She’d give a nexus point to a necromancer. She rather doubted anyone would thank her for that.
Her lips twitched. Someone - she’d forgotten who - had once joked about a poisonous snake biting a particularly nasty person. The snake had died. Now... she knew she could direct Aurelius to bite Rangka, but the necromancer looked like a rotting corpse. A lich. It was unlikely the poison would kill him, if he even noticed he’d been bitten. He’d gone too far to be stopped so easily. She forced herself to consider other options, but nothing came to mind except... her mind raced. Was that possible? Or should they only consider it as a last resort?
We’d need at least one battery to make it work, she told herself. Her lips curved into a cold smile. And there’s a bunch of batteries left in the castle.
A hand fell on her shoulder. She jumped, her eyes snapping open. Cat stood beside her, looking down. He looked... worried, worried and ashamed. Emily wondered, sourly, what he would have done if they’d been alone when she’d been caught in an emotional storm. She hoped he wouldn’t have taken advantage of her, but she didn’t really believe it. And... she told herself she wasn’t quite in her right mind. Cat didn’t deserve to be berated for anything.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” Cat said. “I...”
“I told you to go,” Emily said. “I thought I’d be right behind you.”
She tried to hide her irritation. Cat had done as he’d been told. And yet... she breathed a sigh of relief that so few people knew he’d been with her. If they’d thought he’d abandoned her, they’d mock him... she snorted in irritation. She’d thought they’d both be cutting and running. She’d never considered she might be unable to leave. Cat had to feel the sting of abandoning her, even though he hadn’t... even though very few people knew he’d even been there. Emily told herself to be grateful. Men did dumb things to prove themselves when they were being mocked for cowardice.
And he’d have to wonder if they were right, she thought. He’d be questioning himself...
“I got back to the camp,” Cat said. “And I waited and waited and... I thought you were dead.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Emily said. “You didn’t know.”
“I know that,” Cat said. “I still feel guilty.”
“You have a lot to feel guilty about,” Emily said, dryly. “This isn’t one of them.”
Cat gave her a droll smile. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”
“Because it wasn’t your fault.” Emily met his eyes, evenly. “I told you to go. I expected to be following you. The last time... the last time you left me, it was your fault. This time... it wasn’t. And no one can say it was.”
“You think that’ll stop them?” Cat stared into the fire, his face grim. “They’ll be calling me a coward when the truth comes out.”
“So what?” Emily made a rude sound. “You’re not a coward.”
“It won’t be easy to prove,” Cat said. “Tearing out someone’s tongue doesn’t prove him wrong, does it?”
“No,” Emily agreed. “But would I be spending time with a coward?”
Cat glanced at her. “I’m sure they’ll be able to rationalize an excuse for you.”
“Hah.” Emily shook her head. “Cat... don’t you dare throw yourself into the fire, just because they called you a coward. You know better. I know better. Everyone who matters knows better.”
She laughed, suddenly. “And how many people even have a rough idea of what happened?”
“Hardly anyone,” Cat said. “But you know how the truth starts to leak out.”
“Really?” Emily made a show of rolling her eyes. “Do you know how many stupid stories there are about me?”
She leaned forward, willing him to believe. “Apparently, I defeated Shadye with the power of love. I smiled and the coup plotters threw themselves to their knees and begged forgiveness. I raised the dead, I healed the sick, I made the poor rich and the rich poor... and, let us not forget, I’m engaged to every eligible magician or aristocrat in the world. And I’m blonde and redheaded and... I breathed and a dragon fell dead. I have no idea where that story came from...”
“I heard you met a dragon last year,” Cat said. “Was that true?”
“The story was running around long before I met that dragon,” Emily said. “I had a fight with a giant and beat him with one hand tied behind my back. I swam with the mermaids and flew with the winged unicorns and I have a giant sword that transforms me into an even mightier warrior every time I shout my catchphrase to the stars...”
Cat snorted. “Emily, you’ve done enough for ten people.”
“Yes,” Emily said. “But I haven’t done even a tenth of the things I
’m reputed to have done.”
“And half of those tales are so extreme that no one really believes them, any more than they believe the song about the Derby Ram,” Cat said. “A young man turning and running from the field of battle? They’ll believe that.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” Emily countered. “Would we not have dismissed a known coward?”
“Not if he was a high-ranking aristo,” Cat said.
“And you’re not, unless you’ve been holding out on me,” Emily said. She elbowed him, none too gently. “Cat, we could send you away. We would have sent you away if we had cause. Wouldn’t we?”
And no one would expect me to date a coward, her thoughts added. And yet...
She shook her head. “Cat, you’ve done more than enough. No one thinks you’re a coward. Hardly anyone knows you were with me, when” - she swallowed, hard - “when I died. And those that do know understand you weren’t leaving me behind. Everyone else has no reason to think you’re a coward. They might think you’re an irritant - and I’m sure Penny thinks you’re a dickhead in all senses of the word - but they don’t think you’re a coward. You came here. That’s not the act of a coward.”
Cat gave her an odd look. “Have you been taking lessons from Lady Barb?”
“Maybe a few,” Emily said. She waved a hand towards the distant walls. “You know where we are?”
“Yeah.” Cat smiled. “I suppose I could have come up with an excuse not to come here, right?”
“Right.” Emily smiled back. “No one thinks you’re a coward. And if you start moaning again, I’ll hex you.”
“We should go to the spellchambers,” Cat said. “It might be interesting to see how far you’ve come.”
“Let me guess.” Emily grinned. “You only let me win earlier.”
“Are you kidding?” Cat gaped at her in mock surprise. “Sergeant Miles would have killed me if I’d let you win.”
Emily nodded. Jade had let her win once, back in her first year. Sergeant Miles had given him a stern lecture, followed by a week of punishment duties. It had been one of the only times Emily had seen the sergeant lose his temper... or pretend to lose his temper. He’d explained, back when they’d gone to the wars together, that pretending to be a bully was one thing but actually being a bully was quite another. It was better to pretend to lose one’s temper when one still had enough control to make use of one’s anger. And that she could not be allowed to develop delusions about her competence. Her victories had to be honest or she’d die when she went up against someone who didn’t hold back.
Oathkeeper (Schooled in Magic Book 20) Page 25